


5 times Dean had to be Big (and 1 time he didn't)

by NocturnalCharmer



Series: Little SPN [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5 (+1) fic, Little!Dean, Non-Sexual Ageplay, Other, colouring, stuffed animals, thumb sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:48:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4560021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturnalCharmer/pseuds/NocturnalCharmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tries so hard to grow up and not be seen as a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 times Dean had to be Big (and 1 time he didn't)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Comfort.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/467297) by [MsPriestly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPriestly/pseuds/MsPriestly). 



> A few of these are based off of my own experiences with being a Little.

1.  
"Honey, that's Sammy's paci." Mary scolded gently as she picked Dean up and removed the pacifier from his mouth.

The four year old made a sleepy, distressed sound and snuggled into her blouse as she swayed.

Mary smiled and kissed his chubby cheek, "I know, but you're getting too big to be sucking on this. Pacifiers aren't for big boys like you."

Dean would have pouted and protested, but the easy rocking motion of his mother carrying him had lulled him to sleep already.

 

2.  
"C'mon Dean, get that thing out of your mouth." John whispered to the backseat where Sam was already asleep in his car seat and Dean was curled up with his thumb in his mouth.

The six year old reluctantly pulled his left hand away from his face and wiped his wet thumb on his jeans, mummbling, "Sorry..."

John sighed and turned his eyes back to the road, "Don't worry. You'll break the habit, you just gotta keep it out of your mouth and you'll stop."

"Yes sir." Dean replied automatically.

 

3.  
Dean startled awake to the loud bang of textbooks hitting his desk.

His teacher stood in front of him, a stern expression on her plump features, "Ah, Mister Winchester, how nice of you to join us in the land of the living."

The twelve year old blinked the bleariness from his eyes before realizing with a sickening jolt that his thumb was in his mouth. He tore the offending appendage from between his lips and shoved his hand into his hoodie pocket.

The damage was already done though. All around him he could hear the whispers of his classmates.

"Was he sucking on his thumb?"

"Wow, what a baby."

"That is so gross."

"Weirdo."

Dean swallowed and kept his eyes on his desk, trying to ignore how his face was burning as the teacher returned to the front board and continued the lesson. He told himself over and over again that it didn't matter, because Dad said they were leaving next week.

Still, he wished they were leaving tomorrow instead.

 

4.  
Dean yawned as he pushed the lawnmower back into its place in the barn.

"Hey!"

He turned to the voice and saw Robin leaning on the doorway, guitar case slung over her shoulder.

"Ready for your next lesson?" She asked.

Dean dusted off his hands and nodded, "Yeah, I'm done for today."

Once they were settled on the porch she guided him through the chords step by step. He yawned again, catching her attention.

"What is up with you lately?" Robin asked, sitting back in her chair.

Dean waved her off, "It's nothing, I'm just not sleeping well."

Truthfully, trying to quit sucking his thumb cold turkey was affecting his ability to fall asleep at a decent hour, but there was no way he was going to tell Robin that.

She frowned and tilted her head thoughtfully, "Maybe you should try sleeping with a stuffed animal? That always helps me sleep."

Dean rolled his eyes and shot her a look, "I'm sixteen, Robin."

"Okay, mister macho." She snorted playfully, "How about just holding a pillow? If anybody gives you trouble you can say you're pretending it's a girl."

"I don't know which is worse," Dean joked with false bravado, "Getting caught with a stuffed animal or having someone think I'm lame enough to cuddle a pillow-girl."

Robin gave a resigned sigh, "Suit yourself. But you have to ask yourself which is more important, a good night's sleep or how other people see you."

Dean didn't answer her outloud, but in his head he chose the second option in less than a heartbeat.

 

5.  
Dean picked up one of the army men and smiled, "Ah, man I used to love these things."

Actually, he still does, and he relished the warm happy feeling he gets as he makes the gunfire sounds.

Green eyes glance back up at the kid, Lucas, and Dean nodded to himself, "So crayons are more your thing, huh? That's cool, chicks dig artists."

Dean watched him continue to scribble silently.

"These are pretty good." He commented, gesturing to the many pages Lucas had already finished.

He glanced around and decided he could indulge a bit, nothing strange about an adult colouring with a kid as opposed to doing it alone.

"You mind if I sit and draw with you for awhile?" He asked Lucas.

Dean didn't wait for an answer, he knew he wouldn't recieve one, and grabbed a blank page and a green crayon.

"I'm not so bad at this myself." He said as he began to sketch out a couple stick figures.

"You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad." Dean explained as he drew, adding hair and faces, "I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something."

He paused and was met with silence.

"Anyway. Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything." Dean assured, "You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake."

He put the finishing touches on his own drawing, "Okay, no problem. This is for you."

"This is my family." Dean held the paper out, not really concerned with the fact that Lucas wasn't looking, and pointed to each stick figure in turn, "That's my dad, my mom, that's my geek brother, and that one is me."

Only silence and more scribbling.

"Alright, so I'm a sucky artist." Dean joked good naturedly before he stood from the bench, "I'll see you around, Lucas."

He strode back over to Sam and Andrea feeling a little more relaxed than usual.

 

+1.

Dean groaned as he sank down into the memory foam of his bed. 

He was tired. 

Tired of research. 

Tired of hunting. 

Tired of being an adult with responsibilities.

"Hello Dean."

The hunter reluctantly sat up and regarded the angel in his doorway, "Need something, Cas?"

Castiel shook his head, no, "You made a sound of distress, I wanted to be sure you were alright."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Dean assured with a nod, "Just tired. The stress of the job really gets to you sometimes."

"Perhaps you should relax, take some time for yourself." Castiel offered, "Would you like to go to a bar? I can take you wherever you'd like to go."

The hunter shook his head, no.  
Bars were the last place Dean wanted to be when he felt like this. He'd much rather spend the night in, where he wouldn't have to act.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Castiel asked earnestly.

Dean was about to just shake his head again, but he didn't. Instead he found himself beckoning Castiel into the room and gesturing for quiet.

The angel closed the door behind him without question.

"I've never told anyone about this." Dean started, "Not Sam, not Lisa, not Benny, nobody."

Castiel's face took on an even more serious expression, if that was possible, and he nodded once, "I understand, Dean, this will be our secret."

"Sometimes I, uh...I...well, it's like...um..." Dean hated drawing out the tension, but it was just so hard to articulate exactly how he felt and he wanted to be sure he came across the way he wanted to.

"Dean." Castiel interrupted his rammbling, blue eyes staring straight into his green like he could see the hunter's very soul—and being an angel he probably could—, "Nothing you do could ever make me think less of you. You can tell me anything."

Dean breathed deeply and nodded, "Sometimes I feel like a little kid and it's relaxing, like I don't have to worry about hunting or any other responsibilities. I can't stay in that headspace for long, but I wish I could."

"You miss your childhood." Castiel stated simply.

The hunter gathered his legs up onto his bed and hugged his knees, "Yeah. I just don't want to be an adult for a while, y'know? I just want to be little and have someone else worry about saving the world."

The angel smiled softly in understanding, "Would you like for me to take care of you for a while, Dean?"

Dean couldn't bring himself to look up at the angel, whispering into his knees, "More than anything."

"Then lets take a nap, Little One."

**Author's Note:**

> I miiiiight do another fic that picks up where this one leaves off.


End file.
